Games Aren't Child's Play
by kittiesrock90210
Summary: What if Katniss never shot President Coin? What if they followed through with the plan to host a Hunger Games with only Capitol children?  What happens when there's one tribute who doesn't fit the Capitol picture? I've run out of space to write, but read!
1. Chapter 1

**My first Hunger Games fic, so I hope that it's not too bad. I wrote it just now while I was on a sugar high, and am too wired to check it over so please excuse any grammatical and spelling errors. And I promise the next chapter will be better. If there is another one. You guys decide.**

**Highlight of the day: My mom told me that she used to eat her children's vitamins like candy when she was a child, taking them by the handful and watching t.v. Now I know where I get the habit from.**

"Got all the names in the ball?" President Coin asks Plutarch.

He nods. "All the live capitol children are entered."

"Okay, let's get outside. We start in twenty minutes."

President Coin walks out of the room stiffly, the way she always walks.

"You should probably start getting ready Katniss." Plutarch called over to me.

I nod slowly, but half of my mind is absent. It's reaping day, but my name isn't on any of the slips of paper this year. I don't have to worry about someone I know getting chosen as a tribute in the arena. In fact, I'm probably going to end up as a mentor.

But honestly, that's not what's really on my mind. I'm really thinking about Prim, how her name was called on reaping day two years ago, when she was still here. Still alive. But those day's seem as though they were centuries ago.

Plutarch is right though, and I should be getting ready, considering that I was one of the victors who voted for this year's Hunger Games to take place. I get up off the couch and make my way towards my quarters to put on something respectable. Or at least clean. That's the best it's going to get today.

I make it out to the stage with a good three minutes to spare, and take my seat on the stage between Johanna and Annie. Annie is whispering to her bulging stomach. "Oh, I know today's a bad day, but everything's going to be okay."

"How's the baby?" I ask her.

She gives me a small smile. "Oh, just fine. My little darling is sad because... well today's not a good day."

I nod to show her I understand, even though there's no way her unborn baby would be sad. But she's a little unstable mentally. I am too. So are half of the victors.

I stare out into the sea of faces, the children from the Capitol who are shaking with anxiety, probably praying that their name won't be called. I know the feeling too well. I examine different faces in the bunch. _Twenty-three are going to be dead soon. _

I'm so relieved when President Coin takes the stand and starts talking because I'm starting to feel shaky, thinking about all the dead children. But I fore myself to stop because all those kids out there have been watching district children die their whole lives. Now it's their turn.

"We gather here to choose the twenty-four tributes for this year's Hunger Games. The Hunger Games were started as a punishment for the dark days inflicted upon those who lived in the districts. For seventy-five years, the Capitol has been taking children from each district to participate in the Games for entertainment. However, today there is change, and now it is the children of the Capitol who pay the price. Effie, would you like to come up to draw the names?"

Effie Trinket gets out of her seat and heads over to stand by the two glass balls filled with slips with names printed neatly. The names of Capitol citizens between the ages of twelve and eighteen.

"Happy Hunger Games!" Effie pipes with excessive cheerfulness. "And may the odds be in _your_ favour!"

I wonder how she manages keep upbeat almost all the time. Maybe she slips stuff into her coffee.

Effie walks over to the ball on the right. "Ladies first!" She digs around a bit before pulling out a slip. "Tessa Pinits."

A girl in the crowd, who I assume is Tessa, bursts into tears immediately. The girl beside her gives her a quick hug before Tessa makes her way to the stage. She's still crying as she shakes Effie's hand. And when Effie tries to talk to her, she's sobbing too hard to respond, so Effie stops trying.

In fact, almost all the female tributes are like this, although a couple attempt to keep it together before the tears start to flow. A couple of the tributes stick out in my mind, like a girl with hair so frizzy and pink, it reminds me of the candy floss they used to sell at the sweet shop in District Twelve, although I didn't much of a taste for it. A girl whose skin was a deep blue and white hair. However, the last girl called makes my heart stop. She's so little she must be only twelve, but she could easily passed as a nine year old. And as if that wasn't enough of a disadvantage, she had her arm in a cast. She really tried to keep a straight face and be brave, but with her odds, it's hard to avoid the truth.

After all the boys are called up, it's sob fest. The kids in the crowd are crying, the kids on stage are crying, and the parents are crying. Effie makes a last ditch effort to regain attention. "Are there any volunteers?" she's practically yelling.

One single hand is raised in the crowd. It's far back, and I can't see the owners face, but it seems to get everyone's attention in seconds. Because there actually is a volunteer and this is the Capitol: a place where you always put yourself first. There's no way it's a Career, because there aren't Careers in the Capitol. Because Capitol citizens are never forced to take part in the games. Period.

"Oh," Effie says. Even she's surprised. "Well come on up!"

The people in the crowd clear a space for the volunteer, and that's when I get my first look at them.

Make that her, it's a girl. And my first thought is that she can't possibly be a Capitol kid, she just doesn't fit the picture. She has dark hair, olive skin, and as far as I can tell, has no alterations to her physical appearance like most Capitol citizens do. In fact, she has the Seam look to her, although there's no way she's from the Seam. I look to see the other victors expressions, but instead I catch Plutarch's, whose eyes are the size of dinner plates and pained look catch me off guard.

As she mounts the stage, Effie sticks out her hand, but the volunteer does not shake it. I almost laugh because Effie seems extremely put off by this display of bad manners.

"Hello, there. What's your name?" Effie forces a smile.

"Violet," the girl replies.

Effie frowns. "Can you tell us your last name?"

Violet pretends to think for a while, but you can tell she's just humouring Effie. "No."

Effie seems distressed at the level of disrespect. "Um... okay then. Which lucky girl do you want to replace."

"Gilda," Violet responds. Gilda's the one with the broken arm, and the look on her face is awe. Disbelief. Then Gilda walks over and gives Violet a big hug, before running off the stage.

"Was that your sister?" Effie asks Violet.

Head shake no.

"Another family member?"

Head shake no.

"A friend?"

Another headshake. "I've never seen her before in my life."

Shock is on every single person's face that's here, because no one was expecting anything like this to happen. President Coin is taking the microphone again.

"Yes, let's all give this year's tributes a round of applause."

It's silent for a moment, because everyone's still in shock, but then one-by-one, people start to clap. After a respectable amount of time, President Coin silences them. "Do our tributes have anything to say?"

Most of the tributes are still crying silently. Except the volunteer, who after a long pause steps forward. "I have something to say."

President Coin hands the microphone over to Violet, who accepts it with a small thank you.

Violet marches right up to the front of the stage, and you can see her faced being zoomed in on by cameras as her face is on every screen, magnified a hundred times. Everyone seems to lean forward in anticipation.

She takes a deep breath before speaking. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I'm taken aback. In fact, I'm sure every single person who is here is taken aback. You can see the shock on their faces; this was the last thing they were expecting.

"I mean, we just had a revolution, in case you missed it," she said, angrily, "And people took part in that revolution, _I_ took part in that revolution because we needed change. And we won, yet you're falling back into the same patterns as the people before us, sending kids into an arena to kill each other! We have the opportunity to make Panem a place where justice is established, but this isn't justice! This is revenge! And it's so misdirected because the children who are standing before you on this stage have nothing to do with the terrible things the previous government inflicted."

I can see President Coin calling for guards from the side of my eyes, but my attention is focused on Violet, along with the rest of Panem.

Yet, Violet speaks on. "You're already leading the country in the wrong direction. If you want progress, try a different system than the faulted one we had before us. I know you're angry and hateful; I am too, but if an eighteen year-old can see past that, then you should be able to as well. There is no benefit to these Games, no justification. Whatever justification for the previous Hunger Games was flawed and twisted as well."

By this point, guards are climbing onto the stage, but Violet doesn't hesitate.

"If can't take reason about the morality of the situation, at least think of how illogical it is to hold the Games. Resources and money will be wasted, the way they've been wasted for years of Hunger Games. And you can't forget the reduced population. There's a population of less than ten thousand left after the rebellion, and children are scarce. Despite what you might believe, children are the future, and we need as many as we can get to maintain the population. You're about to kill twenty-three. Some are still yet to die from incurable disease. Some are still slowly dying from wounds and exposure to radiation." She took a collective pause, and I swear you could've heard a pin drop. "Let's see how bright the future is going to be."

The last line falls over the crowd as Violet throws the microphone to the floor. President Coin orders the guards to seize her, but Violet just jumps off the stage and lands on the balls of her feet before walking through the crowd which splits for her. The guards catch her as she reaches to the end of the crowd, but she seems totally unfazed by being captured, and walks back with them without complaint.

"Thank you, you may all return to your dwellings," President Coin says, but the sound is distant in my mind because I'm thinking over everything Violet has said. About how we are following in the footsteps of President Snow by holding the Hunger Games. About how we are misdirecting our anger. How we're simply wasting resources that have a way better use. And I'm almost sure that she's right.

I exit the stage with Peeta and Haymitch, but no one says anything. It's only been about thirty seconds since the end of the reaping when we are called for a meeting. All of the victors and select others. We meet in Integrity Hall, a grand place with board rooms that have those long tables. We file in and take seats. I spot Gale who's across the table, six spot to my left. Things have been weird with him.

"We have Violet being watched in room 103," President Coin announces upon her entry, just seconds after I've sat down. "What did you think of that?"

"There no way she's from the Capitol," is what I blurt out before anyone else has the chance to say anything. It's not the first thing they expect to hear. "She has no hint of the capitol accent; she doesn't look the part at all; and she volunteered to replace a girl she's never seen in her life. It doesn't fit."

"She looks a bit like Katniss," Peeta says blandly.

Enobaria smirks. "Yeah, a better-looking Katniss with brown eyes."

I really try not to take that personally, but it's kind of impossible. And it doesn't help that almost everyone in the room is holding back smiles.

"Enough," Coin says, clearly agitated. "The point is, what do you think about what she said? Do you think she's trying to rally people for another rebellion?"

Beetee shakes his head. "Probably not. She'd have to be out of her mind to try and start a rebellion now, but she didn't seem insane. Just angry."

Angry. Yes, she was undeniably angry. You'd have to be blind and deaf not to notice. But why would someone from the Capitol, who probably has had a really easy and trouble-free life, be so angry? Unless she just really didn't think Capitol citizens should be subjected to such atrocity because they're better than the rest out us, but I seriously doubt that.

Coin nodded. "So what do you think-"

"She's definitely _not_ from the Capitol," I interrupt Coin.

Coin stares at me. "Pardon?" she asks, clearly annoyed at my interjection.

"Well she isn't," I insist, "I mean, she doesn't fit the image at all. The way she acts, talks, looks. Are you sure she didn't come from the districts?"

Coin, along with half the other people in the room, sigh in frustration. I have a tendency to frustrate these people. Coin just shakes her head. "If it bothers you so much, do you want to talk to her? I'd really like to get down to the meeting."

I feel the heat creep up to my face. "It's okay. Continue."

"Should we keep her as a tribute? Or should we choose a new one to replace her?" Coin asks.

Haymitch sighs. "Why would we replace her?"

"She caused a major disturbance in the public."

"She just ranted to the crowd for a couple of minutes, hardly a disturbance," Peeta commented. "Besides, you asked if any of the tributes wanted to talk, and she wanted to talk. It's not like you gave them an outline of what they could and couldn't say."

Coin doesn't respond to this for a long time, as she realizes he's right. "But she directly accused the government of poor ruling, saying we were doing things wrong and-"

"She gave her opinion," Beetee pointed out plainly. "It's not like she went threatening people."

President Coin is just standing there looking sheepish. Well as sheepish as she can look. "Then shall I release her from custody?"

"Since she poses no threat and has done nothing illegal? It only makes sense. There's no justification to keeping her in custody. Plus, her prep team is going to be furious considering tonight's the opening ceremony and they haven't been able to get started." Haymitch say off-handedly.

"I'll have her released," Coin announces while walking out the door.

Johanna just rolls her eyes. "Let's 76th Hunger Games begin."

**Love, hate?**

**Please review and leave any kind of comment you want. Just be honest.**

**Also, who thought Mockingjay was a little disappointing? I did. Well the ending, but maybe that's just because I was hoping Katniss would end up with Gale. But what really killed me was when Finnick died, because he was one of my favourite characters. Tell me what **_**you**_** thought.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so this chapter is sort of fillerish (okay, I'm sure all you author's out there have ahd filler chapters before, and if you are one of those ones who doesn't, then keep your mouth shut), and it kind of sucks because I couldn't think of anything else to write. And it's short. Gosh, it really does suck! I guess I have a lot to apologize for.**

**I'm sorry.**

**Anyway, I want to thank everyone who reviewed this story!**

**Highlight of the day:**** My mom told me I should eat more as part of my recovery diet. I told her I wasn't hungry at the moment. She told me I looked like Audrey Hepburn in a concentration camp. Way to boost my self-esteem mom.**

"We don't have enough mentors," Johanna points out a few hours after the meeting. We were just waiting for the opening ceremonies to start in a couple of hours. For now we were just sitting on a couch, not doing anything in particular. Just burning time.

"We`ll just pair kids together," I reply lazily.

Johanna scowls at me. "We don't even have enough mentors for that brainless."

"Don't we?"

Johanna rolls her eyes. "There's you, me, Haymitch, Annie, Peeta, Enobaria, and Beetee. That's seven. Twenty-four divided by two is twelve," she explains to me. She sighs "And I thought my brain was broken."

I smile at this, since both of us have been labelled as mentally disoriented. We each have to meet with a psychologist twice a week. Or, "the head doctor" as Johanna likes to say.

"Yeah, I guess my brain's having another malfunction. I should get tech support to fix it." I tap my head three times. "Oh, there we go. The machines are in function again."

God I'm so crazy, but it makes Johanna laugh.

"You know, maybe we could each take three or four kids. That would work," I offer.

Johanna shrugs. "Yeah, I guess we'll find out soon enough. Let Coin and Plutarch figure it out. I'm sure they have a plan they schemed up together."

I laugh. "You know, I wonder how long the Games are going to last anyways. I bet these kids have never been in a situation where food wasn't handed to them on a plate. And most probably can't use a single weapon, and probably don't know the first thing about outdoor survival."

She laughs. "It's sure to be interesting."

* * *

I've been staring at the ceiling for about fifteen minutes straight because I have nothing better to do at the moment. Actually, there are better things I could be doing with my time, but I'm lacking the initiative it takes to do anything. So I'm lying here, focusing on the tiny dots lining the ceiling when there's quick rap on the door.

"Come in," I say without much enthusiasm.

"It's locked." Peeta's voice. I smile as I stand up, stretching out my shoulders which have gone stiff.

I twist the lock, and open the door. "Hi."

Peeta grins at me. He's been getting better. He's almost like old Peeta, but not quite. None of us are quite the same as before. "Opening ceremonies are starting up in a couple of minutes. You can go watch it in the broadcasting studio-"

I made a face. Moving just takes too much effort.

"Or you can just stay here and watch it on television," Peeta finishs.

"You mean _we_ can just watch it here."

He smiles at me and we walk over to the television set together, flicking the on switch, bringing the screen to life, just in time to see the first chariot roll out. Since there weren't districts to organize the tributes by, I'm guessing the organizers just pair random kids together and put them on a chariot to ride. All of them were smiling and waving, like they couldn't get enough attention. Most of them dressed up to the extreme, in some cases gaudy. Fabulous dresses that sparkled and shined. Some tributes even resembled animals.

"What do you think?" I ask him.

Peeta shoots me a confused look. "What do I think of what?"

"The Games," I reply.

"I already told you what I thought about the Games when I voted against holding them."

The memory takes a few moments to resurface, but I do have a hazy recollection of the day. "Oh, yeah."

One of the last chariots pulling out. One of the tributes is wearing fuchsia- winged girl in a dress that sparkles in the low light, making her look like a magical creature. The poor guy beside her didn't stand a chance of being centre of attention. In fact, I think she's the most memorable tribute.

"That's the last one, right?" I ask Peeta.

He seems to be doing the math in his head for a moment. "There's one more."

Cue twelfth chariot's entrance. It rolls slowly into view as the camera zooms in on it. It focuses down on the tributes. And suddenly, you know _she's_ the unforgettable one of the night. The one people will talk about for days. The one tribute who stood out beyond the rest.

And it's not because she's dressed up in some extraordinary costume. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm sure it's a first in Hunger Games history, because I don't think anyone could be this bold.

Rant girl, Violet, is wearing a plain violet-coloured t-shirt and plain grey fleece pants. The kind of clothes one would wear for a day at home alone when you want to be lazy and comfortable. And here she is, with a bored and annoyed expression on her face, leaning against the edge of the chariot, refusing to look at the crowd who are all shouting for her attention.

"What do you think about that Trak?" One of the commentators asks another.

"I don't know. She's full of surprises, that's for sure." Trak replies.

"She's mocking the Games," Peeta comments plainly. "Tributes are supposed to dress up and act as if it is some fabulous event, and she's acting like the Games are beneath her. They aren't anything." He flashes a hint of a smile. "Coin will not be impressed."

"That girl," I say, pointing to the screen, "is a piece of work. Coin will probably be sticking pins in a 'Violet' doll tomorrow morning."

Peeta wrinkles his nose. "Training day. We don't see Coin unless she calls a meeting in the evening."

"Delightful, a day off," I sigh dreamily.

"Training day," Peeta repeats, "We have to observe the Capitol kids as they pick up on their skills before the Games."

I think about it. _Back when I was in the Hunger Games, I participated in opening ceremonies and interviews with Caesar Flickerman prior to the Games. I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers during my private seesion with them the first time, and hung a dummy the second. I learned how to tie a noose from Finnick during pre –game training. Training. Three days to train in the gym along other tributes._

I break my little trance. "You're right."

"Yeah, I know you're having difficulties with stuff," he smiles sympathetically.

My thoughts just get jumbled sometimes and memories become fuzzy, and my brain feels overwhelmed. The head doctor told me that I should organize my thoughts and start at what a solidly remember and build upon it. So I do. "The doctor says I'm improving."

"That's good," he says sadly, because no matter the improvement, I can never be the same as before. None of us can.

"I guess," I shrug.

He sighs. "Do you think Coin plans to hold the Hunger Games every year?"

"No," I respond after a moment, "She said there would only be one when she proposed the idea."

"It would be stupid to hold the Games again," Peeta comments. "Population issues and costs."

"Just like Rant Girl said," I mention.

Peeta smiles. "Yeah, she did hit some solid points. I wonder what goes through her mind."

"Hmm, she's probably one of those Captitol kids who adored Snow," I say with a hint of bitterness as the memory of Enobaria calling her a "better-looking Katniss".

"I don't know," Peeta frowns, "I mean, she said she took part in the rebellion."

"Well you definitely hung on to her every word," I said sourly.

Peeta just shoots me a look. "I think everyone hung on to her every word. She's great at getting attention. Just look at the television."

True, Violet was the center of the commentator conversation, and the audience at the opening ceremonies was just calling for her. Giving her the attention and begging for her to return it. And she played it perfectly, not noticing them one bit, causing them to beg more.

"Well she's got everyone staring at her," I say as if it's nothing, "Big deal."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "If you say so."

I really try not to look at him as he attempts to suppress his smile. "Okay, I think I'm going to sleep, because I'm tired. So, see you in the morning?"

He nods. "Yep. I'll see you at training. Be nice to whichever kids you're mentoring."

I walk him over to the door. "I'll try my best to keep them alive."

"That's the spirit," he grins walking out the door, but at last second, he turns around, hesitates, then plants a soft kiss on my cheek. "Goodnight Katniss."

I blush slightly, but I hope he can't see it in the shadow the doorframe is casting. "Goodnight."

I watched him walk down the hall and out of sight, leaving me alone with my uncontrolled mess of emotions which I could never decipher, never organize.

So I didn't try. Instead I walked over to my bed to sleep.

My nightmares are filled with my murder. Every time, the Violet girl finds a way to kill me; strangulation, spearing, shooting me with my bow and arrows, drowning me, stabbing me.

I wake in the middle of the night, and I know I won't sleep again before morning.

**You know what would totally make my day? If you reviewed! Really, it would. Click the button down there... it's totally free of charge.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! How are you?**

**Anyway, I wrote the third chapter! In under a week! That's impressive (by my standards)!**

**Highlight of the day: I was writing an "In class assignment" when I had to spell the word bananas. So started to quietly sing the Gwen Stefani song. "The shit it bananas; B-A-N-A-N-A-S."**

I go to the Tribute building bright and early in the morning, since I really have nothing better to do. I walk straight into the lobby and looked for the sheet which was to tell me my assigned mentees. We were instructed to go over basic strategy this morning before training.

My eyes flit over the sheet as I look for my name. As soon as I find it near the bottom, I read the tribute names beside it. Dominair, Daria, and... I cannot believe my luck.

It's Violet. Rant girl extraordinaire. Because, of course, out of all the tributes, she'd be in my group. I roll my eyes.

I scan the rest of the list, to see who the other victors have, although it doesn't really matter because I don't know any of the tributes names to match with their appearances. My eyes stop at Gale's name. What? Gale isn't even a victor! Yet, there his name is, matched with three kids' names.

I shake my head. Coin probably assigned him to it, since they're all buddy-buddy. I scowl.

I check the list over again, then head to the elevator and hit the button labelled 10. That's what floor the sheet says I'm on. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to reach, and the doors slid open with a small _ding!_ I remember riding the elevator here for the first time at my first hunger games, wanting to ask Effie if I could ride it again. Those days were so long ago, in a life that was so different.

I step out promptly, noticing how similar the floor is in design as the twelfth where I stayed for my two Hunger Games experiences. Trying to remember the general-layout, I steer myself in the direction I think the dining room is. I'm not disappointed.

Daria, who I assume to be the girl, is pushing some eggs around her plate, taking the occasional bite. Her bright pink, blue, and orange hair is pinned up in some extravagant hair-do that I probably took half an hour to fix. Her freckles that resemble cheetah spots are flecked with gold glitter. I refrain from rolling my eyes. Bright orange eyes turn to meet me. "Hi Katniss! It's _such_ an honour to meet you in person! You are like, the most amazing victor on the planet, you know!"

I blush awkwardly. "Um, okay. Thanks."

Dominair sticks out a hand to me. "Hi Katniss."

I shake it. "Hello." I release his hand and look over to Violet.

"It's very nice to meet you Katniss. My life wouldn't be complete if I hadn't," she says in a sarcastic tone.

I narrow my eyes at her. "Do you want me to make sure you die?"

"What do you expect me to say? 'Hi Katniss! I absolutely adore you, and although I already know your name, I'm going to ask you for it anyway and tell you how marvellous you are!'. I don't think so," She said plainly before picking up a roll and biting off a piece, eyes daring me to react.

So I don't. "As your mentor, it's my job to keep you all alive. If I'm going to keep you alive, you have to tell me what your special skills are. Do you have any survival talents; is there anything you're particularly good at? Be honest. We've got three days to get you into Hunger Games shape."

Daria raised a hesitant hand. "Does sewing count? I was like, the best designer out of all of my friends."

I try not to grimace, or even worse, laugh. "Um, I guess it could be useful if you were going to weave a net or bowl, or roof. Anything else?"

She shook her head no.

"I can make really good sculptures. I was really good in art class," Dominair offers.

I think of as very reassuring, confidence boosting reply. "It could be useful if you were trying to cause a distraction. Make a quick sculpture, hide in the brush, then stab an opponent who thinks the sculpture is you."

I know, it's totally unrealistic, but I want these kids to feel they have something to work with. And I think it has worked, because they are both smiling at me. I turn to Violet. "You?"

"I have no idea how to do anything Hunger Games related," she answers plainly.

I raise an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

She shakes her head. "Guess I'm out of luck."

I roll my eyes at her, before continuing. "When you go to training today, I want all of you to work on picking up whatever skills you can. Find out which weapon you're most comfortable with, learn about edible plants, build a fire. The more you learn the better. Also, I want you to observe the tributes around you, see what you're up against. Learn their skills and know how to counter them. The more you learn the better. Also, I want you to observe the tributes around you, see what you're up against. Learn their skills and know how to counter them."

Rapid head nods as they appear to take in everything I say. Well, at least two of them.

"Remember, don't get caught watching the other tributes, you don't want them to know you know their strengths."

"We'll do it!" Daria said with enthusiasm.

I seriously think she's going to die, but I give her an encouraging nod. "Okay, training begins in ten minutes, so I want you to be there, right on time. In fact, you should start heading down now. Gives the instructors a good impression. I'll talk to you about how your day goes later. Remember what I said."

Violet stands up with a fake smile plastered on her face. "Aye Aye Captain!"

I resisted the urge to strangle her.

My head doctor would be so proud.

**

* * *

**

I was down in the control room with Gale and Peeta as Beetee explained how it works. It's a huge screen, with several controls so you can get visuals of anywhere in the arena. There's the button for sending your tribute a gift, and after an hour and a half of practice, using the machine is almost second nature. I don't need to think _now which button do I press?_ And I am proud of myself for it.

"So how are your tributes?" Beetee asks us.

Peeta tries to look optimistic. "I guess mine are okay. They aren't completely hopeless."

"They're alright," Gale says afterwards, "I mean, one of them has a pretty solid build. When it comes down to physical size, he has a shot of winning."

Beetee sighs. "It probably will come down to that. Most of these children haven't an idea what to do. They only know what they've seen on previous Hunger Games." He turns his attention to me. "How about you, Katniss?"

"I got placed with Rant Girl," I say with a scowl.

"I bet she's going to get the most sponsors," Gale tells me, "So you have a chance of getting her out of the arena."

I scowl at the thought.

"Do you guys want to see the footage of the training going on?" Beetee asks us. We nod and follow him towards a screen while he messes around with a couple of buttons, and the screen lights up.

I immediately spot Daria due to her hair, and see she's trying to shoot an arrow. It goes backward. She strings up another arrow and tries again, but I catch her sneaking a peek at all the other tributes. Good girl. My attention turns to Dominair who is trying to construct a fire with matches. He's not doing very well, but the instructor seems to be helping him as he lines up the kindling, lean-to style. And there's no sign of the other.

"Great, Rant girl skipped," I say sarcastically.

"What?" Gales asked.

I point at the screen. "She's not there at any of the stations. She's probably still up on the tenth floor."

Beetee manipulates the controls, zooming out and around. It looks confusing and makes my head hurt with all of the twists and turns, but he finally settles into a bird's-eye view. Then he chuckles. "Oh, she's there alright." He says as he zooms in on a piece of heavy-weight lifting equipment. And there she is. I growl.

"I wonder how comfortable the floor is there," Gale says with a smirk.

Peeta shrugs. "Maybe she's just too tired to care about her survival."

Yes, she must be, because she's taking nice little nap. "I bet she's been doing that all day."

Gale smiles. "I bet she's going to win."

I turn to send him a glare. "Why would you say that? She has none of the survival skills she needs! And it's not like she's working on them either."

For some reason, he finds this amusing. "Look at her. She definitely understands that a person needs to sleep to function. She's ahead of the game. Or shall I say Games."

"You are so frustrating, you know that?" I'm practically yelling at him.

He gives me a sour look. "I could say the same about you every day, but I normally don't."

I stare at him for a second, in shock, in anger, before I turn around and walk out the door from the control room.

I listen for a couple of seconds, but after a few moments, it becomes clear no one is going to follow me. Good. Because I don't want to talk to them. I walk briskly to the elevator and press the button to go to the ground floor. For a second I think about it, realizing how much I over-reacted. It wasn`t that big of a deal, but there was no way I was going to go back up there now, to face them. I In fact, I blew it way out of proportion, but I won't admit that out loud. Nope, that`s me, suave.I In fact, I blew it way out of proportion, but I won't admit that out loud.

I get back to the tribute building and take the elevator up to the tenth floor, and fall asleep on the first couch I find.

**

* * *

**

"Could you wake up already?" an annoyed voice asked.

I my eyes flutter open to see an irritated Violet. Why did they close the curtains? I take a better look; no, the curtains are still open, it's just gotten dark outside.

"How long was I asleep for?" I yawn.

Violet just shoots me a look. "Right, I'd know because I was here when you fell asleep."

"Okay then," I glare at her, "What time it is?"

She glances at her wrist, which is bare. "Well, look at that, it's half-past the freckle."

I narrow my eyes at her.

She returns the expression. "You have two tributes at the table waiting for advice from their mentor. And you can hate me because I don't give a shit, but you have a commitment to uphold that you will help those kids no matter what. So do it."

I look at her for a moment. "Okay, I'm going."

I get up and walk over to where the bright lights are coming from and sit down at the table when I get there. "Hey Daria, Dominair. How was training?"

Dominair smiles. "I think I can light a decent fire. The instructor was really helpful."

I give him a nod I hope looks encouraging. "That's great! Fire building is a very useful skill to have."

"I learned how to identify certain edible plants," Daria pipes up, trying not to seem too impressed with herself, but I know she is. It's al over her face, sparkling in her orange eyes.

"Knowing what you can and cannot eat in the wild can, and probably will save your life. Good thinking," I tell her.

She beams at me. "Thank you."

"And what exactly did you accomplish?" I direct harshly at Violet.

She puts her finger to her chin and looks thoughtful. "Well, I caught up on sleep. You know how important it is to be rested." I think of what Gale said earlier, and inwardly groan. "And I found out what hummingbird poo looks like. Crucial information for survival."

I don't even attempt to reply, but rather return my focus to the other two. "Okay, well I'm happy with the progress you made today. I was watching you at raining, and some of you are doing well. Way to follow instructions." I throw a pointed glance at Violet. "Okay, I want you all to keep doing what you're doing, and try to learn something new tomorrow. Pick up a weapon."

"We will!" Daria says enthusiastically. Oh, her and her enthusiasm. I wonder how she can get so excited about being thrown in an arena to kill or be killed. Does she shoot motivation drugs into her system in the mornings?

Dominair nods in agreement. "Yeah, use weapons. I'm up for that."

I pointedly look at Violet, awaiting response. She sighs. "I'll pretend I care. Go team Everdeen!"

_Just three more days of putting up with her, and then she'll be dead_, I think.

I`m pretty sure that`s the only thing that keeps me from strangling her now. Happy thoughts.

**Ooooh, that's the end of the chapter. Please review! I'm like one of those obsessive girls who checks her phone every five seconds in hope he's texted her, except I check the computer every five seconds in hopes of reviews. It's very sad.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 is up kids!**

**So anyways, I would like to give a personal shout out to Lane: Thanks for pointing that out, you're so right. Okay, I couldn't remember her last name when I was writing the chapter, then I guess I thought of the character in "Dream Girls" (LOVE THAT MOVIE!)**

**Highlight of the day: I was jumping on my bed when the mattress slipped and I fell off and hit my desk. The bruise on my knee looks like a turtle.**

"What are you all going to do for your private sessions with the Gamemakers?" I ask my tributes.

Dominair speaks first. "I was planning on slashing a dummy with a knife."

A knife had been his weapon of choice, or at least, the one he was best with. Not fabulous, but none of the Capitol kids were fabulous at anything. Not like when tributes came from districts and had secret skills. "Sounds good. What about you Daria?"

She smiles, her orange eyes glowing. "I think I'll show them my camouflage skill."

She's actually a third-decent at painting over herself with the dyes, turning herself into trees and what not. Daria told me stories of how she used to place dress up at home when she was younger, becoming all sorts of extravagant people, animals and other things. Although you couldn't even try to compare her talent to Peeta's, it's her best chance at a decent score.

"Okay, I'm glad you all have thought this through-"

""You didn't let me say what I was going to do," Violet says blandly.

_Yes, there was a reason for that._ "Okay, what are you planning to do?"

She frowns. "You see, that's the problem, I have no idea what to do. As a mentor, you should be trying to help me figure these things out."

I send her a scowl. She's trying to make me seem like I'm a terrible mentor, or at least, that's what it seems like. "I don't know what you're good at since you never actually did anything at training."

It's true. She spent the entire second day tying the most simple knot at the rope tying section, talking to the instructor, and the third day was wasted with her throwing stuff at the force field separating the tributes from the Gamemakers. Beetee had created some new type of force field that only transparent from one side and the other just reflects the room. Like a one-sided mirror. I don't understand how he makes these things, but he's a genius.

She scratches her head. "I know! What should I do!" she says with false terror.

"Well you're very good at ignoring instructions and you're very annoying." I say pointedly. "Show the Gamemakers that, and they'll give you a twelve."

She sticks her tongue out at me. "Fine, I guess I'll just go in there and blow them away."

I roll my eyes. "Good luck with that." I turn my attention back to the others. "Remember you only have fifteen minutes to show them what you've got, so make good use of the time."

"What if we're done before fifteen minutes is up?" Dominair asks shyly.

"Just keep doing whatever you're doing, don't stop. They'll dismiss you when they are ready," I reply. "Anymore questions?"

They shake their heads. "Thanks Katniss."

I don't exactly smile, but I give them an encouraging nod. They're so thankful for my advice, so desperate to please me. "Okay, you guys should start heading down. Go in when you're called do your best."

Daria give me her most enthusiastic smile. "Okay! Bye, we'll see you later at dinner!"

She hooked her arm around Dominair and they walked together towards the elevator. He acted as if such physical contact was perfectly normal, although Daria informed me that they had never met prior to the Hunger Games.

"Thanks for the tips," Violet mutters as she gets out of her seat and heads for the elevator.

"You're welcome!" I practically shout.

She turns and smiles at me as her elevator arrives. I watch her until the doors slide close before heading off to search for food. All I really need to do is go find one of those mouthpieces to talk into, and the food will appear in a couple of minutes. I'm starving for some reason I can't explain. I mean, I ate lunch just over an hour and a half ago, so I shouldn't be, but it's pointless to question why I feel which way because it just confuses my brain.

It's only been thirty seconds since my tributes left the floor when I hear a voice yelling at me. "Katniss Everdeen, you better get over here right now!"

I hint of a smile graces my lips as I make my way back towards the elevator. "Hey Johanna."

"Okay, right, hi. Whatever. Come on, Plutarch sent me to get you. Where have you been!" She yells rabidly. So typical of her.

My face scrunches in confusion. "What? Where am I supposed to be?"

She sighs. "The private sessions. You know, we're supposed to be there to watch and help judge the tributes."

I almost growl. "How come I'm never informed of these sorts of things? No one told me."

"Yes they did, I was there brainless," She shoots me a glare. They probably did, but I hardly ever pay attention in meetings.

"Okay fine, they did. Why do we need to go anyway."

She scowls. "It's stupid. We give our opinions for what the scores should be. Something like that," she smiles "It's not like I really focus in the meetings with Coin."

The elevator doors slide open as we reach the basement of the Training center. I'm completely lost as Johanna leads me through a maze of corridors until she opens a door, showing me that we're at the place the Gamemakers sit during evaluation.

Plutarch grins and chuckles. "Nice of you to join us Ms. Everdeen."

I blush as everyone's attention turns to me. "Sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay, you got here a solid five seconds before the first session started. Sit."

He points to two empty seats on the left, which me and Johanna fill promptly. Just in time, because the first kid walks in.

"This is going to suck," Johanna whispers to me.

"He's one of my mentees. He's awful." She frowns.

I shrug. "He can't be as bad as one of my kids." _Violet_.

"You just keep thinking that," Johanna smirks.

She's right, he's awful. He attempts to tie a knot, not even a complex one, but he doesn't seem to be able to accomplish such an easy task in his fifteen minutes. The next girl throws knives, and although she isn't spectacular, it's a major step up from the first. And so it goes, tribute after tribute. Mediocre spear-throwing, knot-tying, weight-lifting, trap setting. It's pretty sad. In fact, I'm beginning to understand why the Gamemakers were so worn out, hardly paying attention to me when I had my first Hunger Games. The job is so tedious.

I make sure I pay attention when Daria enters though, watching what she's doing carefully. She immediately heads over to the camouflage center and decorates herself in green, brown and grey dyes, the covers herself in a whole bunch of leaves, decorating herself with a couple of flowers from the edible plant section. Then she curls up in a ball, pretending to be a bush. It's not fabulous, but it's mediocre, like the majority of the evaluations.

Dominair is next, and I watch him hack a dummy into multiple pieces before repeating the process on another. He's got most of the basic technique down; proper grip on the hilt, right angle of approach. It's actually one of the better sessions. I'm glad.

"Next is Violet," Plutarch tells his assistant who nods and hurries to go get her.

"Watch this, it's going to be awful," I whisper to Johanna.

She smiles. "Worst in your group?"

I roll my eyes. "Understatement. She didn't do anything at training."

"She requests to go last, sir," The assistant returns in a rush.

Plutarch raises an eyebrow. "Did she say why?"

Head nod. "She said she would ruin everything for the tributes after her if she went now."

Plutarch looks thoughtful for a moment. "Okay, save her for last."

I stare at him incredulously, ready to protest, but Gale beats me to it. "Why would you let her? You're setting precedent to give tributes power? What will the others think, that they can do whatever they want?"

Plutarch sighs. "She said she would ruin it for the others, so she was warning us because she didn't want to mess up the other tributes. We might as well listen."

"How do you know she isn't just trying to get her own way?" Gale counters.

"Because," Plutarch sighs, "I just have a feeling that she wouldn't do that. She's not that kind of person."

Gale scoffs. "You act as if you know her."

And that's when I remember Plutarch's face as he saw her mount the stage at the reaping. Pained.

"You do, don't you?" I ask.

He exhales and puts his fingers to his temples for a second. "I've met her a few times. Her grandfather was a rebel himself until he died. She got Finnick to join the rebels; at least, that's what Finnick told me. He said they were friends."

Annie nods. "Yes, she and Finnick were friends. She came to visit me when I was imprisoned in the Capitol. She told me she could trust me, and then rubbed spit on her arm, then..."

Annie stops to focus on a point in the distance, completely forgetting the conversation. We wait for a couple moments, but she shows no sign of returning anytime soon.

"Then what Annie?" Beetee urges her gently, breaking her trance.

Annie's eyes refocus on us. "The guard came to ask what she was doing there, throwing her against the wall, but she lifted her wrist that had a red bracelet, stating that she was given permission to enter the jail."

"What did she talk to you about?" I ask her, interested.

"She always asked me if the guards were treating me right, if I was getting enough to eat, making sure no one hit me. She brought me food every visit, until one day, she said she couldn't visit anymore because he found out, and was getting suspicious."

"Who?"

"The president," Annie says bluntly before covering up her ears to block out the world.

The president. Violet was involved with the president of the country. Violet was a rebel. Violet was a friend of Finnick's. Violet looked after Annie. I've learned a lot of interesting things about my good friend Violet recently, most unexpected.

"You are dismissed," Enobaria calls out to the tribute whom I didn't pay any attention to. When I'm asked for my opinion on what his score should be, I just say the number most others have: 3.

The next few sessions are completely forgettable except one. It's a boy with a broad shoulders and semi-thick arms, giving him the best build in the competition. He throws around some heavy weights before we dismiss him.

"Decent," I say when I'm consulted.

"Go get her," Plutarch commands his assistant, waving his hand. Violet enters the Training area a minute later. I immediately sit up on my chair, waiting to see what she plans to do.

As if reading my mind, she looks at directly at us, though I know she can't see through the force field. She smiles. "Katniss, I figured out what I'm going to do for my session."

I raise my eyebrows, which is totally wasted on the fact she can't see it.

"Watch, you'll love it."

She glances at the wall clock to check the time before heading over to the weapons area and dragging out a bunch of dummies and standing them up in a circle. Violet puts most of them in a circle, then places one in the direct center of the circle. She grabs a long piece of rope and throws it up over one of the high ceiling support, finally getting it on the sixth try. It's a difficult throw, and I'm surprised she makes it.

She grabs some dye from the camouflage sections, painting something onto an extra dummy, then quickly strings up by one arm, pulling it up thirty feet above the rest, near to the ceiling. She's spent six minutes.

She rushes over to the edible plant station and grabs the largest leaf she can see and a thin vine-like thing. She runs over to the Animal Feces station and scoops up a handful some kind of animal poo, dropping it in the leaf before rushing over to the first aid station, grabbing some sort of bottle. It takes me a moment to identify it as rubbing alcohol. She grabs matches from the fire building station before heading back to her circle, which she sits in front of.

Violet rips the vine in half. She douses the animal poo and leaf in rubbing alcohol before tying up the edges of the leaf with one half of the vine. She inserts the other half of the vine into a tiny slit in the leaf, then checks the time. She has about a minute left.

We're all on the edge of our seat, wondering what the hell she's doing. Especially me.

She pulls out the matches, striking one of them against the back of the package. When it lights she places it against the edge of the vine, which catches fire, starting to burn.

"Oh my," Beetee whispers in awe, "Genius."

Violet drops the matches and runs for the door, exiting without dismissal.

Glances of confusion pass between all of us. _What was the point of that?_

That's when it blows up. Protected by the force filed, none of us feel the wrath of the explosion, however the gym in not spared. The fire sprinkler on the ceiling go off, calming the flames, but I'm still staring in disbelief. The fourteen dummies in the circle have been blown to pieces, parts charred and scattered across the floor. A lot of the equipment is ruined. The entire training room is covered in ashes.

"A natural bomb. How clever." Beetee says, clearly impressed. I'm sure he was well acquainted with bombs from his days in District 3, not to mention the rebellion.

"She was making a statement," Gale points out. "Thirteen dummies in a circle, thirteen districts. One alone in the center, the Capitol. And she blew them up."

"Look!" Annie said, pointing up high into the rafters.

We take our attention of the ashes and destruction to look up to where her finger leads. It's the dummy, hung by one arm, dangling precariously, as if it's about to fall off. It sways gently, still feeling whatever repercussions from the explosion. Then it turns around to face it, and we see the words for the first time. A collective gasp escapes our lips.

_Panem's future. Katniss was right, we'll burn._

* * *

"So I saw your sessions with the Gamemakers," I say before eating a spoonful of some pumpkin soup.

Daria's eyes widen. "Was I good, or awful. Oh, I hope I wasn't awful, was I?"

I shake my head, swallowing my food before responding. "You did exactly what you needed to do. It was great. Same with you Dominair, you slashed that dummy with precision. Congratulations. I don't get to decide on the final scores, but I know you guys are going to be in the higher half of scores for sure."

They both beam at me. "Really? That's great!"

I nod at them before looking over to the empty seat at the left side of the table. Rant girl didn't show up for dinner, but I was half-expecting it anyways. "So we're going to be practicing for your interview tomorrow. You each get three hours to work with me, if you need it. I have a feeling you guys will do great."

"Thanks Katniss," Dominair says, slightly blushing. At least I think.

I glance over to the clock. "Training scores are about to start."

They both practically jump out of their seats and speed-walk to the television set. I get up in a more composed fashion and flop down on the couch next to Daria. She stares up at me with big, orange eyes. "I'm nervous."

I don't know why I do this, but I grab her hand and give it a tight squeeze for comfort. "It's going to be fine."

Most of the rankings are fours and fives, some lower. Daria scores a five, pleased that she didn't do the worst. Dominair is ranked with a six, which is the highest score so far. "Great job guys."

The big tribute Gale is mentor to gets an eight, which is pretty impressive. I knew he'd be one of the highest.

Second highest, to be exact, because Violet scores an eleven.

Dominair and Daria turn to me, shock all over their faces. "How did she get a score like that? I mean, she didn't do anything at training!"

"I know," I basically growl.

Dominair raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "What did she do during her session?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you, but I would if I could," I tell him. How did she score an eleven? By blowing up the room?

"Can you please tell us?" Daria whines.

I shake my head. "No. All of us could get in a lot of trouble if I did."

She slumps back, defeated. "Okay, whatever. I'm going to go to bed, I'm exhausted." She yawns to make it clear. "You coming?" she nods to Dominair.

"Yeah, sure." He gets up and straightens out his shirt. "See you in the morning."

I nod. "Okay, bye guys."

I don't move. I spend my time watching them repeat the showing of the scores again and again, the program ending with a "Happy Hunger Games!" in a voice that belongs to only Effie Trinket.

"Eleven. Hmm, didn't see that one coming."

I jump out of my seat, turning towards the voice, my heart beating rapidly for a couple moments before. Violet is there leaning against the back of the couch. "Oh, you."

"Yes, it's me," she rolls her eyes. "See, the Gamemakers enjoyed my session."

I stare at her, trying to figure out what she's getting at. "You are one bold kid, going in there and sending that type of message."

She shrugs.

Then it occurs to me. "Where did you learn to make explosives like that anyway?"

Violet removes her gaze from me and starts to pick fluff from the couch. "My dad taught me."

"When?"

She stops moving her hands. "Before he died."

"When did he die?" I ask, genuinely interested.

"I-I-IIII," she closes her eyes. "I really don't want to talk about it."

I stare at her for a second seeing the side of her I've never seen before, because normally she's all sarcastic and confrontational, and... annoying. Can't forget that one. Always trying to undermine me, disobey me, disregarding what I say. "Why do you hate me?"

She opens her eyes and stares at me plainly before her expression softens tad. "I don't hate you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

She nods. "I don't hate you in that sense. I don't know you enough to say I hate you, though I am jealous of you."

I'm caught off guard, since this is the last thing I expect to hear from her. "Why would you be jealous of me?"

"You got to kill Snow," Violet answers quietly, "I always wanted to kill him personally. I had it planned perfectly; torture him relentlessly, hear him scream and cry and beg for mercy. Kill him slowly. Then you come along, Mockingjay, and kill him instantly with a shot through his heart. No real suffering. I was so furious, not at you, that I didn't kill him."

I'm taken aback. "But why did you want to kill Snow so badly?"

She stares at me, but I can see the sliver of pain in her eyes. "He took everything away from me. My family, my identity, my happiness. He took away my innocence. He took away who I was. He killed me."

"He couldn't have killed you, since you're right here," I point out.

She looks at me with big chocolate eyes. "He took _me_, my life away from myself." She takes a breath. "I no longer owned myself, he did."

I stare at her uncomprehendingly. "I don't understand. How did he steal you from yourself?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," she sighs. "That's okay, I don't mind. Very few people left on this world understand at all."

And with that, she walked of towards the bedrooms, and I watched her disappear into the shadows before refocusing on the TV, which was replying some speech Coin made after the rebellion. I quickly click the off button.

I'm left confused, and even after I head to my bedroom, her words haunt me. Especially the ones form the dummy.

_Katniss was right, we'll burn._

It takes awhile, but I eventually fall asleep and into a dream. It starts off with me being chased by a group of mutts through the tunnels under the Capitol. I see a chance to get away from the mutts, which are bugs with huge pinchers by jumping over a gap, but when I jump, I underestimate the size of the gap and barely manage to grab onto the ledge on the opposite side. I can hear the mutts falling to their deaths behind me, but that's not my concern.

The ledge is getting slipperier by the second, as if oiled and is starting to crumble. I try to hoist myself up, but my arms fail me. The ledge breaks under my hands, and I begin to fall when someone catches my hands and starts to pull me up.

Violet.

She lifts me back onto solid ground, and within a moment runs out into the shadows of the tunnel, though I can still here her footsteps on the concrete a few seconds after.

The last thing I remember is thinking that maybe Violet isn't my enemy after all. Maybe we were secretly on the same team.

**Okay, so that's the end. Please review:P**


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